


let's dance in style, let's dance for a while

by palalabu



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Sad and Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palalabu/pseuds/palalabu
Summary: And when it was podium finish that was at stake, the decision on who had to have one more pit turned the strategy meetings icy. No more weekly FIFA hang outs.
Relationships: Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr
Comments: 2
Kudos: 92





	let's dance in style, let's dance for a while

Everything was easier back then. When Lando was just a rookie. Carrying the burden for being one of the most anticipated rookies, but still he felt like he could do anything. He could just be his silly, awkward teenager self. He could fail his first season, and people could’ve just excused it on his greenness. 

And Carlos might be the “experienced driver” between the two of them, at just 24. And even though Lando called him old man, he was the new guy. He could’ve not produced any result and blamed it on their mediocre car, on his transition to this new team. He could’ve gotten away with a lot. 

It was easier when they were just trying to be the best of the rest and Carlos could tell Lando all of his tricks. And Lando could only be so painfully honest with his praises, because he was so in awe and amazed with how good Carlos was to come out the brake and turn at the same time (“Every racing driver does that,” Carlos argued, amused. But Lando told him that Carlos did it better than him). 

And at one point they stopped becoming just Carlos or just Lando. They’ve become Carlos  _ and _ Lando. They were the ones who reinvigorated their team. They were the ones who livened up the whole sport from it’s stale reputation. “We like to get these two at the same time. It’s always entertaining,” Simon Lazenby once said. Or as Steve Jones said, “The hottest couple in F1.” And they couldn't even answer who’d get the first podium between the two of them, because they’d be there together. Easier to say when in reality they were only fighting for P4 or P5. 

Easier to say when they spend their team duties together most often than not. Easier to say when even after their duties, Lando would still trail Carlos to his room and play some games. Or even when during summer break Carlos would still call Lando to come over to set up his sim. Easier to say, “Of course you’re a friend,” or “I don’t want any other teammate,” when it was their team against the rest of the grid. 

And it was easy to not just tread, but actually cross the line between friends and teammates and something else, when their rooms are next to each other and their houses are only 20 minutes away. A friendly, not quite a date but more than just hang out --because what kind of hang out leaving all parties involved half naked, on top of each other, on the couch-- dressed up as team bonding. As if they needed any more of the latter. 

Secret laughter and giggles as their only replies when someone from the team sat them down and asked them, just making sure, they knew that romantic liaisons within the team were frowned upon. Everything was rose tinted shrouded with clandestine meetings between races. 

Then things like one new and better front wing started to appear and made the team choose who to give it to. And when it was podium finish that was at stake, the decision on who had to have one more pit turned the strategy meetings icy. No more weekly FIFA hang outs. 

xxx

The news came out before Christmas, and Lando didn’t expect to find himself, anxiously, chewing on his lips, jigging his leg, only in his hoodie --because Lando didn’t really think when he left-- standing on Carlos’ door on a cold winter morning. And by the look on Carlos’ face, he didn't expect him either.

“Lando?” Carlos said, at the exact same time Lando asked him, “It’s me, isn't it?” And before Carlos could say anything else, he added, “You move, it’s because of me. Because you can’t stand working with me anymore.”

“Let’s get in first.” Carlos tried to take Lando inside by his elbow, but the younger man pulled his arm away stubbornly. “No, I can't. Just tell me right here that you hate me so i could just… So I’d just…” 

Lando didn’t really know what he’d do if Carlos did say he hated him. Devastated, definitely. But if that’d end his suffering of not knowing what Carlos was thinking anymore, then probably hearing that was what Lando needed right now. 

“Let’s go inside,” Carlos insisted instead. And Lando tried to protest. But Carlos cut him with a stern, “Trust me,” that Lando hadn’t heard in such a long time. That reminded him of the following pranks Carlos used to pull, of a secret trick Carlos shared that gained Lando that extra tenth of seconds, of nights spent between sheets. So he let Carlos drag him into his flat, and his living room, and sat Lando down on Lando’s usual corner on the couch where they wasted days playing FIFA, and nights of kissing. 

No. Lando couldn't let himself keep thinking about those days and nights. He shook his head. He got up from his seat, putting distance between them because Carlos was leaving, and Lando… He tried not to be a brat and asked Carlos to sacrifice his whole career to stay with the team that didn't work anymore for him. And Carlos already signed his new contract anyway, so all Lando could do was to accept. And he was still in the process of accepting that fact, but that wasn't even the hardest part. The hardest part was Lando didn't know how to go forward.

“Look.” He started to walk in circles, hands in his back pockets because he didn't know what to do with it. “I’m spoiled, alright.” And Carlos just watched him. “I know. Because you spoiled me.” Now he pointed fingers at the other man, accusing him. “You shared with me  _ everything, _ Carlos. And I’m not even talking about data or racing, or anything like that. You know what I mean. It’s much more than that.”

And Lando couldn't even mention what those things were because they’ve stopped labeling things a long time ago. When play fights turned into foreplay --followed by breakfast in bed, and Lando losing his hoodie in Carlos' place, only to find Carlos’ jumper in his laundry. And for the first time in his life, Lando had someone who sat him down and taught him how to fold a shirt. Of all things. And that was when Lando learned what patients looked like. 

“I didn't even realize it. But I rely on you. So much. Because you were there since the beginning and I was a stupid 19 years old kid. And you always know what to do. So I just follow you.” He could feel his eyes started to get hot, and part of it was because the fact just dawned on him, just how true it was. “But it’s so stupid. The other day they asked me if I wanted more blue or more orange for our race suit. And I just stood there and thought, I want to hear what Carlos thinks about it first, like a goddamn idiot. It’s just a stupid race suit. Why can't I just say what I want? It’s like I’m addicted to your thoughts. Like I'm incapable of making my own decision. And I'd been making decisions just fine by myself before I knew you. But now...”

“Lando.” Carlos’ voice broke him out of his own spiraling thought, only to realize his cheeks were wet and his breath was short. “You’re shaking.” And Carlos was trying to reach him. But what was the point in that if Carlos wasn't going to always be there to reach him anymore. 

“Don’t.” So Lando took a step back, and knew that Carlos would listen. Because that was what Carlos did. He listened and he’d said,  _ tell me more, _ as if what Lando wanted is of the utmost importance for him. And Lando would helplessly miss that too. And there was nothing he could do to change it. “I’m sorry.” He finally said. And Carlos just watched Lando and all his mess. “I don't know why I’m here. I don’t know why I thought you need to listen to all that.”

  
“Probably because you  _ do _ know that I need to hear all that.”

“No, you don't. You already made your decision. You’re leaving. Because of me.”

“That is not true.”

“Don’t insult me with a lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“So you’re telling me you’re not leaving?”

“No, I’m still leaving. And yes, it’s because of you. But it’s not how you think it is.” 

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I know! Because you won’t stop talking.”

Lando didn't even notice it through their argument, but Carlos was now standing inches away from him and was pulling him by his hoodie so he could crash his lips against Lando. Lando had his face clasped between Carlos’ strong, warm hands, and he hadn't been kissed like this --with such heat and desperation-- for quite some time now, that Lando had to clutch on Carlos’ shirt just to keep himself standing and sane. But Carlos just kissed him impossibly deeper, tongue coaxing Lando’s lip to part so he could plunder inside and devour all the words Lando was thinking to say. He had one hand on the back of Lando’s head and the other around his waist, pulling Lando closer, melting their bodies into one. And Lando couldn’t stop the whimper he let out. Because that was how Carlos was to him. When he made Lando his sole attention, he rendered Lando helpless and so undeniably Carlos’. 

Carlos broke the kiss but kept Lando pressed against him. Nose touching, breathing the same air. And when he talked his lips kept brushing against Lando’s.“I’m leaving the team, not you. I’m leaving because I can’t stand fighting against you anymore. And because I can’t just sit there and see you  _ just _ as my teammate anymore. I’m leaving because I’m greedy and I want more from you, Lando.”

“You mean—”

“Yes. I want to date you, be your boyfriend. I’m leaving so I could hold your hand and kiss you, not in secret anymore, without putting the whole team at risk.”

This time Lando was the one pulling Carlos for another kiss. Because if he couldn't let Carlos keep on talking and leave Lando in an even messier explosion of emotion. Because Carlos wanted them to actually, officially, date. Because Carlos moved to a new team not just choosing his career, but also Lando. And it was a new realization for him that he actually wanted all those things too. That he wanted, more than anything, to keep Carlos in his life than in the team. 

Shit. He needed distraction or else he’d start to cry again, for a whole different reason. 

“We’re still gonna fight on track.” Lando chose to state the obvious instead. But with fondness, as he looked up at him, because Carlos was his boyfriend now. 

“Yes. But it’d be as clear competitors. And I don’t have to go back to a meeting feeling like you should’ve given me the space or that you ruin my strategy.”

“And whatever happens on track stays there.”

“Of course.” Carlos placed another quick kiss on his lips. Knowing exactly how to soothe Lando. “When we’re home, we’re just Carlos and Lando.”

Lando felt like he was floating with all the emotion coursing through his body. But at the same time, Carlos' arms around him grounded him there in the moment that he couldn't stop the smile on his face. Or the happy tears blurring his vision. So Lando pulled Carlos closer and hid his face on the crook of his neck.

“Just. Don't get too close to Charles, please,” he murmured against Carlos’ warm skin.

“Are you gonna be jealous?” 

“Very.” He knew he sounded petulant but, really, sharing Carlos was a thing that he still need to learn. 

“Well I’m not the one who said my future teammate is hot.” 

“And in relationship with Max,” Lando argued, “which is my best friend.”

“And you're with me,” Carlos cupped Lando’s face so he could make him look up at Carlos, “are you not?”

“Yes.” And Lando was beaming. He stood on his tiptoe to once again kiss his  _ boyfriend _ (he was still trying to get used to using the word). “Yes. I am. Very much with you,” he told Carlos between kisses. 

He could feel Carlos’ smile against his own. And he was gently being pushed back to the couch before they finally fell in a messy heap on top of it. Still kissing and wrapped around each other. 

And if all Lando had to get used to was seeing Carlos in red, he could live with that. 

**Author's Note:**

> i've started writing this months ago, with the idea of carlos and lando's work relationship will turn sour when their car finally get competitive. and i always had the idea that carlos will move to ferrari. perhaps because the speculation have started even back then. BUT I DIDNT EXPECT IT TO COME THIS SOON AND WHILE THEY'RE STILL IN PEAK BROMANCE.  
> if i jinx this ship. i apologize and will take the responsibility.


End file.
